This
story occasionally includes explicit depictions of sexual acts between
consenting adult males. If you are underage or it is illegal to view this
for any reason, consider yourself warned. If you find this material
offensive, I have to wonder why you came here in the first place.

This
story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is
entirely a coincidence.

This is
my first attempt at writing a story, so I would love to hear any feedback, be
it positive or negative. Send me an email with any comments or questions
at movingonstory@gmail.com.

I would
like to thank Jay Gordon at jaygordonstories.com, for much of the inspiration to
write this, in addition to the many amazing stories that I've read by a wide
number of authors. Jay's stories may have given me the inspiration, but
all the excellent writers have created a desire in me to write. Thank you
all.

Finally,
my wonderful husband gets a shout out for being so supportive, allowing me to
bounce ideas off of him and for taking the time to edit for me. He is
apparently a glutton for punishment, as he keeps volunteering to look at the
newest chapter for me. They have been amazing, and any errors that remain
are mine and mine alone. Thank you!

I
realized that I now have enough chapters written to keep releasing every other
week through November, so hopefully this is the last of the long delays!

A Quick
Author's Note: As with most characters, I generally avoided any sort of dialect
with Zach. I want him to sound like a young child, but don't have enough
experience of my own to capture it perfectly. I decided to write him speaking
in a similar manner as the other characters, although he does occasionally have
issues with tenses or choose the wrong word when talking. I aim to write a
believable and enjoyable story, and believe that I've captured Zach to the best
of my abilities, but I would LOVE feedback (yes, I'm a feedback whore)
specifically about how Zach is portrayed. This chapter is not the last we'll
see of him, and I want to make sure I portray him believably.

Noah was silent for much of the
two-hour drive south. The silence was tenser than I would have liked, but
understandable, considering the fact that this was the first time I was going
to meet his son. In reality he was much more nervous about me meeting Willow
than me meeting Zach, but I'm trying not to get too far ahead of myself.
Anyway, he did assure me that he was no more tense than he would have been had
I not been there. I'm not entirely sure how much I believed that, but there
wasn't much that I could do about it either way.

Noah had one hand in a death-grip on
the steering wheel, but I refused to give up his other hand, clutching it
tenderly. I couldn't believe how nervous I was to meet a little kid who didn't
know me from Adam! The few times that Noah spoke, he calmly reassured me that
Zach didn't have a hateful bone in his four-years-old body. This reassured me,
but did little to calm my nerves. I had been warned about Willow.

Finally, we pulled up in front of a
rundown trailer. Paint was peeling off its sides, and the wooden steps leading
to the door looked they would topple over if you so much as leaned against them,
let alone tried to climb them. The front end of the trailer seemed lower on one
side than the other, but I couldn't tell if that was really the case, or if my
mind was so overwhelmed that I was actually imagining more damage than was
actually there. One window on the side was broken, but the screen was still
intact. With an internal chuckle, I amused myself with the notion that at least
the bugs couldn't escape the sweltering August heat into the trailer.

Before we left the car, Noah reminded
me for the umpteenth time that Willow was completely unfit to be in charge of
plants, let alone a child.

"I don't know how, but she seems
to have a sixth-sense when it comes to child services. Even when it's for an
unannounced visit, Willow can somehow anticipate CPS's arrival and cleans up
the trailer and puts on a show about how great of a mother she is. After a few
attempts to make anonymous calls, she actually threatened to sue for me
harassment and return to court seeking full custody. I had been so unsuccessful
up to that point in the court system that I just didn't want to fight anymore.

"Please, Scott, just don't react.
She's going to try to bait you to piss you off. Don't give her the
satisfaction. Obviously she's manipulative, and just a genuinely miserable
person. I never would have had anything to do with her if it weren't for Zach,
and I love him far too much to walk away. I wish I could be more involved in
his life, but I have to abide by the visitation agreement."

"I understand, and I'll just
stay back and follow your lead. I'll try to be as invisible as possible,"
I said, but as I glanced at the trash-strewn excuse for a lawn, a scheme was
already beginning to form in my mind.

As I opened the car door and kicked a
glass bottle out of the way in order to get out, I surreptitiously slipped my
cell phone out of my pocket and began to take pictures of what I was seeing.
When Noah asked what I was doing, I just told him that Tom had texted me a
question, and I was responding. I wasn't taking a backseat, even though I had
said I would not even two minutes prior. If my assumptions were correct, these
pictures would be necessary, and if I was wrong, Noah would be none-the-wiser.

As we neared the steps, a voice
screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear, "You sonovabitch!! Your
asshole fag of a father'll be here in a minute!! You better be ready. Momma's
got plans today."

I had to stifle a chuckle at the
thought that a mother just called her son a 'son of a bitch', but the humor
passed quickly as I remembered that this language was directed at a four-year
old, and she had primary custody. I knew I would need to move ahead with my
plan. Noah shot me a look that clearly read 'I told you that she's unfit'.
After taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he knocked on the door.
Suddenly I felt like I was about to enter a viper's nest.

"Get the fuck in here! You need
to man up and be a fucking father to this piece of shit!" Willow yelled
from somewhere in the trailer.

Before opening the door, Noah
whispered to me, "I'm really sorry, Scott. She's not usually this bad.
Actually, I've never heard her so abusive before. Please just stay strong for
me."

"I'm right by your side, no
matter what happens," I replied.

Noah opened the door, and we walked
into the cramped room. Just like the yard, the room was filled with trash. The
few pieces of furniture in the room were almost completely hidden, and the
little that was visible showed signs of damage and neglect. Keeping my phone
out, I kept taking pictures while trying to keep Noah from noticing.

I glanced into the tiny kitchen, and
like everywhere else, it was filled with trash. The sink was overflowing with
dishes. The acrid stench of spoiled food filled the small area, and the air was
filled with flies.

"Zach, where are you, buddy?!
It's Daddy!" Noah called out. His face belied the optimism and excitement
that he projected when he called to his son. If I hadn't already been
thoroughly briefed on what to expect this weekend, I would have instantly
realized just how much he hated being here and having to deal with this
situation in order to spend time with his son.

Willow's voice rang out from the back
bedroom. "Zach! Answer the fag! He has to deal with you now!"

There was no movement anywhere in the
trailer and silence filled the air following Willow's outburst. Suddenly, the
bedroom door burst open, and out stormed a waif of a woman. A cigarette dangled
precariously from her thin lips. Her jet-black hair resembled a bird's nest, her
face was gaunt, and she was so thin that I was sure she couldn't weigh more
than 90 pounds. Her skin almost an ashy gray; I would have guessed that she was
at least 40, if I hadn't known that she was 25, the same age as Noah. Even from
a distance, I could clearly see the track marks up and down her arms from
extensive drug use.

She didn't even notice us. She
stormed over to a door on the hallway that I hadn't noticed yet and began
banging loudly on it.

"Zach! Get your fucking ass out
here! I don't have time to deal with your bullshit today."

Noah quickly rushed over to her, as
Willow's anger was clearly rising.

"Stop. I'll go in and talk to
him. He's just a four-year-old for God's sake! You shouldn't be yelling at him
like that," he reprimanded her.

"He is my goddamn son, and I'll
talk to him any way I fucking please! You ain't the boss of me. Who the fuck you
think you are, coming into my house and tell me how to raise my kid? I oughta
drag your ass back to court and take away all your visitation rights, you
goddamn fairy."

"Please, Willow, he's my son,
too. I'm sorry for talking to you like that, it's just that I only get to spend
a few days a week with him. Just let me talk to him, then we'll sit in the
living room and play, and you can do whatever it is you need to do."

With a loud sigh, she gave in, and
stormed back into her room, muttering 'fucking faggot' as she went. With a loud
crash, she slammed the door, and silence reentered the living space.

"Yes, buddy, he is." I
couldn't help but grin when Noah said that. It made me feel good.

Zach was lost in thought for a few
moments, tapping his chin with his tiny index finger as if that would help his
concentration, before asking, "So does that mean that Mommy was right when
she said you were a fag?"

A look of hurt flashed across Noah's
face. Zach couldn't see it, as he was still facing me, but it tore me apart. No
one, especially such a sweet boy, should be forced to live with someone so
emotional and verbally abusive. Before Noah could respond, I decided to take
the reins.

"Zach, that's not a nice word.
It's mean, and it hurts people's feelings, so you shouldn't call people
that."

"Oh. I sorry, Daddy. Mommy says
it a lot, but I didn't know that word hurts your feelings! Don't be mad at me!
PLEEEEEAAAASE!" Zach pleaded.

Noah laughed at the young boy's
apology. "Don't worry about it, champ. You didn't know. Why don't we clear
off some space and play some games out here for a little bit."

"Actually, why don't you two get
started. I think I need to make a quick phone call," I said. I could see
the hurt and confusion spread on Noah's face. After all, I'd made a big deal of
wanting to meet his son, and the first chance I get to spend time with him, I was
begging off.

"Don't worry. I have a plan.
I'll fill you in later, but just trust me for now." I kissed Noah's cheek
and ruffled Zach's hair, which elicited a giggle from the boy, before leaving a
perplexed Noah and stepping outside to make what I knew was going to be a
difficult phone call. There was no way that I wasn't going to help this
beautiful boy who clearly was in a horrible situation, even if that meant
facing more of my past.

–
– – * * * – – –

"Hello? Richard Speaking."

"Hi, Dick. This is..."

"Scott...What the hell are you
calling me for?"

"Sir, please, I don't know who
to contact, but I really need some legal help."

"Ha! Managed to get yourself on
the wrong side of the law? You know damn well that I am no ambulance-chasing
scum of a lawyer who deals with criminals!"

"No, sir, it's not criminal. I'm
pretty sure it's civil, but I don't even know that for sure."

"Sounds like you got yourself in
a right little jam, then. Tell you what, since we were once almost family, I'll
help you for a special rate. Twice my normal one. Now let me guess, your date
at my son's funeral screwed you over and took your inheritance?"

I knew this conversation was going to
bad, but it was going much worse than I thought. Still, I chuckled a little,
since he was at least partially correct.

"What the hell's so funny?"

"Sorry, sir, you're completely
wrong, but the tiny glimmer of truth just struck me as amusing. Look, let me
start this whole conversation over. I am really and truly sorry for what I said
at the funeral. My anger and grief took over, and I lost control. Honestly, I'm
not sorry for WHAT I said, as much as HOW and WHERE I said it. It was
disrespectful of Steve's memory to tarnish the funeral with my anger," I
said, as modestly and conciliatorily as I could.

I paused to collect my thoughts, and
there was silence on the other end. For a moment, I thought he had hung up on
me. I was about to stupidly ask if he was still there, when I heard him sigh.

"Scott, you're right. Lydia and
I have talked a lot about everything that happened just after his death and how
we handled things. Well, not a lot, but in bits here and there over the last
year. I know full well that you two were truly in love with each other, and
that you only had his wishes in mind, and I let my own grief get the better of
me. And I'm sorry, that I've been holding on to all that anger. Hell, I didn't
even realize it was still there until your name showed up on the caller id.
Now, what did that bastard do, and how can I help you. I know you well enough
to know that you'd only call for help if there were no other options."

"Actually, I'm not calling about
Will. Although maybe I should explain." I proceeded to tell Richard about
how I had met Will while blindly running, and how he'd allowed me to get
everything off my chest and made me feel just a little better.

"I really thought he was just a
friend helping me out, but one night, he crossed the line, and sent me into a
tailspin. I actually left town for a long time and didn't return until the
anniversary of Steve's death. I still thought he was a good guy at heart, but
I'm not so sure now. That's a whole other story that I'm not in the mood to go
into."

"I see. Whenever we talk to Tom,
you don't really come up in the conversation, but he did mention you're doing
better now."

"Well, that's actually more in
lines with why I'm calling you, sir. Again, please remember that I'm calling
you because I need help and don't know where to turn, so please don't get angry
with me. In the last few weeks, I've met someone, and we've started
dating."

I could almost hear the beginnings of
rage on Richard's side of the phone.

"Please. I'm calling on his
behalf. I don't know where this relationship is going yet, and I don't even
know how strongly I feel about him, but I do know that I like him. For the
first time since Steve's death, I feel alive again. Hell, sometimes almost one
hundred percent. You can judge me all you want, but, PLEASE, he needs your
legal expertise."

This time, I could hear the anger
dissipate, as Richard let out a loud sigh.

"Honestly, Scott, that's a lot
to take in for me. Deep down, I knew you'd probably find someone at some point,
but I never really thought that I'd hear much about it. My default reaction is
to say that I'm happy for you, but we both know that's not really true. I am
happy that you're doing better. That's something that can't be completely said
about me, and definitely can't be said for Lydia. All right, you've sold me on
helping. And I'll even give you actually family rate," he said, with a
slight chuckle. Through all the times that I'd interacted with him, I'd only
heard that a few times, and it gave me hope that the whole 'Willow Situation'
would be dealt with and Zach would get a better life.

"Ok, here's the deal." I
proceeded to inform Richard about how Noah ended up with a child and the living
situation that Zach was forced to be in. I included all of the vile things that
Willow had said to, and around, Zach that I had overheard.

"Well, you're definitely correct
that no child should be forced to live like that, especially when he has an
able biological father who is willing to take him. Just so you know, this is a
family court matter, and while I don't have too much experience with that
particular court system, I know a few guys who could give me whatever help I
need.

"I'm sure you know that courts
regularly side with the mother, even if she is unfit. We're going to need proof
that the living conditions are bad enough. You mentioned that she seems to
clean up her act around Child Services, so simply involving them won't really
help the situation. Maybe you could try to take photos and document it? They
may or may not be admissible, but it would at least give us a starting point."

"I'm actually a step ahead of
you. I already took about 20. Hold on, let me email them to you." I
quickly emailed the photos, and within a minute, I heard Richard gasp in
horror.

"Oh my God. Who the fuck would
allow a child to live like that! Here's what I'm going to do. I need to make
some calls. Since it's Friday, we may be able to do something, but I can't make
any guarantees. Don't do anything rash. We're dealing with legal issues here,
so we don't want to screw anything up by rushing. I'll get the ball rolling,
but I really need to talk to Noah directly before long, since I'm going to
actually be representing him in this matter."

"Thank you so much! I feel so
helpless, but I know that Zach needs me to do something. Noah feels like he's
trapped with no more options in this situation, and I think he's worried about
what might happen if he tries again and loses. Hopefully with you in our
corner, he'll realize that he has the help he needs."

"Well, realize that it's
probably not a good start to a new relationship to go behind their back, even
if it's in the best interest," Richard scolded me.

"Yeah, I know that. I know he'll
understand; I just hope that he's not too mad at me."

"Ok, well I need to get started
on my end. I'll talk to you soon." He chuckled. "Huh. Never thought
I'd say that again."

I chuckled too, said goodbye, and
walked back into the trailer. The mess that had once been on the coffee table
had merged with the mess on the floor, and a game of Candy Land was under way.
I sat down on the couch next to Zach and immediately noticed that Noah's
character was way behind Zach's.

"Wow. You must be really good at
this game," I told Zach. "Look how much you're winning."

Noah winked at me, with a smile. If
he was still hurt or confused it didn't show.

"I don't know. Daddy keeps
picking up several cards and then says 'Oops' and puts them back." He
leaned in to me, and 'whispered' loudly, "I think Daddy's cheating, but
he's not good at it."

With that, Zach drew a card, and
moved his piece. Noah then drew about five cards, looked at them quickly, said
"Oops, I can't believe I keep doing that!" and then put all but one
back. I noticed it wasn't the top card, but instead one that only moved him
forward a single square. I watched with amusement as Zach excitedly won a few
minutes later.

"Only you would cheat at Candy
Land. And lose," I said jokingly with Noah. He just grinned.

"I really didn't think he
realized what I was doing. Since it's all luck, I wanted to make sure that he
won. Look how happy he is."

We both watched for a moment, as Zach
happily danced around the living room.

"You know, I taught him that
dance," Noah said with another goofy grin.

Suddenly Zach stopped dancing.
"Daddy. I gotta go potty."

"That's ok, buddy. You need
help?"

"No. I can do it!" With
that, Zach quickly ran out of the room.

Almost immediately, Noah's grin was
gone. "Are you going to tell me what the hell that was about? You wanted
to meet him, and then you immediately have to run off to make a phone
call?" It was the first time he'd been angry with me, but I was prepared
for it.

"Please don't be too mad at me.
It just broke my heart to see how he's living. I called Dick. Steve's dad. He's
a lawyer like Steve was. I was hoping maybe he could help get Zach out of here.
I'm really sorry that I did all this behind your back just after I said that
I'd follow your lead."

"Wait...that's what you
did?!?" his voice wasn't angry anymore, and he completely ignored my
apology. His eyes flickered with excitement of the thought of helping Zach.
"How did that go?"

"In some ways better than I had
hoped. It started much worse than I expected, but it got a lot better. I also
took some photos of the house and sent them to him. He's now got it out for
Willow, and believe me, he's not someone you want to face up against. He said
he had to make a few calls and see what he could do. Also, you need to talk to
him at some point, since he'll be representing you."

"Well, that'll be a little
awkward. I've never had to interact with a boyfriend's husband's father before,
but there's a first for everything. Hopefully he'll be able to help, but I
can't allow myself to get my hopes up." The excitement that had entered
Noah was beginning to wane, and I knew that his past legal struggles cut like
deep wounds.

"We need to be optimistic. You
can't let Zach see you this way. In the little time we've been here, I've see
just how much he loves you, and how excited he gets when you're around. Besides,
I think I'm falling in love with the little guy."

"I think his dad is beginning to
feel the same about you." I blushed when he said that, and it made my
entire body feel weak for a moment.

I gave Noah a quick kiss on the lips,
just as we heard the toilet flush.

"I did it Daddy!" an
excited blur said, zipping back to his spot between us on the couch.

"Good job, Zachy! I'm so proud
of you! Hey, are you hungry? I think we should go get a pizza. What do you
think?"

"PIZZAAAAAA!!!" Zach
answered, which I could only assume meant that he thought the idea had merit.

Suddenly I remembered that Richard
had warned me about not screwing up anything at this point.

"Zach, can you do me a
favor?" I asked the boy.

"Maybe," he said,
matter-of-factly.

"Can you go change your
clothes?"

"Why?"

"Umm...because you spilled something on them." At this point I was just
trying to get him out of the room so I could voice my concerns with Noah, and I
had just backed myself in the corner. Zach pulled the bottom of the shirt out
and very carefully examined it.

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Where?"

I pointed to random spot on his chest.
When he looked, I used the textbook practical joke and tweaked his nose. He
giggled.

"How about this. You don't need
to change your clothes, but I need to talk to your daddy about something. Can
you go to your room for a few minutes?"

Tears began to well up in his eyes
when I said that. "Did I do bad? I don't wanna go to my room!"

Noah quickly wrapped his arms around
him. "No, Zachy. Sometimes grownups need to talk to each other, and
there's just no reason that a little kid like you needs to hear it. How about
this:" Noah paused and dug around the junk for a moment, until he found a
toy firetruck. "Why don't you play with this while Scott and I go talk
outside?"

"So I'm not in trouble?"

He looked up at me, and my heart
melted. He's eyes were brimmed with tears, and his bottom lip stuck out a
little as he pouted.

"No, of course not, Zach. I'm
sorry. Unlike your daddy, I'm still new at being around little kids. Please
give me a second chance?"

He thought for a moment, again
tapping his index finger to his chin. "Ok. You have a second chance. But
I'm not little. I'm four."

I laughed, and ruffled his hair,
which caused him to giggle. Then he surprised me by jumping in my lap and
giving me a big hug.

"Now if you'll excuse us for a
minute, old man Zach," which caused the boy to giggle again, "Your
daddy and I have to talk about something. Then we'll see what we can do about
pizza."

"YAAAAAY!!!! I like pizza!"

We stepped outside, while Zach busied
himself with the fire truck that apparently also delivered pizzas. To Mars. As
soon as the door closed, Noah was on my again.

"Now what? You don't want pizza?
Besides, it'll be good for him to get out of the house. I really don't think
Willow even does that very often with him."

"No it's not the pizza. It's the
getting him out of the house. You know better than I do that Willow is supposed
to be with you at all times when you're with Zach. Granted, she hasn't bothered
even leaving her room yet, but we have been in the same house the entire
time."

Noah grumbled under his breath,
"If you can even call it that."

"Anyway, Dick made it very clear
to me that we need to make sure everything we do was legit. This visit is
probably going to his 'Exhibit A', or whatever, in his case to strip Willow of
her parental rights."

"I never thought about that.
You're right. Hey, I got an idea." He opened the door and shouted,
"Hey, Willow! I'm going to take Zach to get pizza, is that ok?!"

There was another squeal of
excitement from Zach, immediately followed by a bellow from the back of the
trailer.

"Fine. Whatever. Just take the
fucking bastard and get out of my hair for a while. I want to be alone
anyway."

"Is that good enough for
you?" He asked me with a grin.

"Almost. Hold on."

I ran to the car, and pulled out a
pad of paper. I quickly wrote "I, Willow Hollin, hereby authorize Noah
Abrams and anyone else in his company, to take my son, Zacharias Hollin, out of
an area where I have direct supervisory capacity for the purposes of, but not
limited to, obtaining food. Signed," I then put an X and drew a line.

"Have her sign this. Even if it
doesn't hold up in court, it'll help our case to show that we're trying to do
the right thing. It will also show that she doesn't seem to give a damn about
what her responsibilities are during your visits."

"Are you sure that Steve was the
only lawyer? This is good!" Noah said with approval.

I laughed. "Nope, just Steve.
But that's not to say that I didn't pick up a few tricks of my own."

We walked back inside. Zach was still
focused on his fire truck. I walked over to him, while Noah headed for the
lion's den.

"Well, why don't you bring your
truck with you, and you can deliver it in the car."

"Yeah!"

Just as I shut the door, I heard
Willow speak (not yelling for the first time) "What the fuck is
this?"

I looked in Willow's car, and saw a
beat up car seat in the back. The car wasn't locked, so I opened the door and
pulled it out. Looking at the size of it, I was pretty sure it wasn't intended
for four-year olds, and with the condition it was in, I wasn't sure that it
would actually be effective in the case of an accident, but it was better than
nothing. I quickly strapped it into the back of Noah's car, then looked at
Zach. He looked scared.

"Scott. I don't wanna ride in
that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's scary."

"Doesn't your mommy strap you
into it when you go places?"

"No. She said she couldn't be
bothered. 'Sides, I can't move around when I'm in it."

"Well, it'll keep you safe if we
get into an accident."

"What's an ass-a-dant?"

"It's when something bad happens
that you don't think is going to happen. Like if we're driving and another car
hits us. It'll hold you tight so you don't get hurt."

"Ooooooh. So like when I knock
something over and it breaks? That's an ass-a-dant? I don't want to
break."

"Ok. So let's strap you in here
nice and tight."

I picked him up and strapped him in.
He was completely secure, but he kept asking me to make the straps tighter.

"They're tight enough to keep
you safe now."

"Are you sure? I don't want to
break."

"No. You'll be fine. I
promise."

Just then Noah came out holding the
piece of paper. He saw me immediately, but didn't notice Zach.

"Where's Zach?" he asked,
in the tone that only a worried parent is capable of.

"I'm right here, Daddy!"
the boy giggled from inside the car, as he move the truck through the air.

"I didn't see you there buddy! I
see you agreed to your seat. How'd Scott manage that?"

"He told me that I'd dent my ass
if I didn't, and I don't want to break!"

I quickly translated that sentence for
a bewildered Noah.

"Well, I'm glad he got you in
there. I know you don't like it, but it makes me feel better too." Then to
me, he added, "I've been trying to get him to use that thing for the past
year, but he just won't get in it. Since I don't get too much time with him, I
do what I can to avoid dealing with a screaming four-year-old as much as
possible. You are amazing."

"I do my best. Did she sign
it?"

"Without even reading it. I told
her that it was to protect her if we didn't bring him back. And I mean it. He
listened to you. He doesn't even do that for me sometimes."

With that, we got in the car, and it
wasn't long before I noticed the telltale sign of the place we were going.

I'd like
to thank my readers for all the wonderful comments I have received. A very
special thanks to those of you have emailed me. Please, keep them coming!!!!

Again, I
am very sorry for the delay. As I've posted in every chapter, and in the
majority of emails I've responded to, my story is also hosted at http://fitz.thestorycloset.org.
If you register for the website, you can subscribe to "Fitz's
Subscribed Readers Forum", which is located at the bottom of the forum.

I also
have a few announcements. I have added a Facebook group. I'm not sure
exactly where I'm going to go with it, but I figure it'll be a good place for
people to socialize about the story (or whatever else). It is a 'closed group',
meaning nothing posted in the group is visible to nonmembers, and the group
does not show up on your profile. However, searching for the group will
bring up the name and the members of the group, so it is not completely safe
from prying eyes. The name of the group is 'Moving On', and all content
will be kept at a PG-13 level. All are welcome to join by clicking on
this link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/226097850809679/.

I also
have my own basic free site where I've also been posting my story! The address
is http://movingonstory.weebly.com.
Not only does it host all current chapters of Moving On, but I just added
character bios! I haven't finished writing them all, and I still need to find
pictures of the characters. If you have any suggestions for ANY NAMED
CHARACTER, please email them to me!

Alright...enough
meaningless rambling! Don't forget to send me feedback, sign up for the
Facebook group if you want, and please visit my new site!!